


Wednesday

by devious-sex-monster (darkotter)



Category: Free!
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Future, Gift Exchange, Gift Fic, Hella domestic, M/M, a day in the life, just fluff, teacher!Makoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkotter/pseuds/devious-sex-monster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Wednesday in the life of Makoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daxii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxii/gifts).



> Short KisuMako fic for Daxii through a gift exchange for Mako's bday, check out all the other ones in the collection! :D I'M SORRY DAXII FLUFF IS REALLY HARD FOR ME. Like this is rated G...like I never write rated G things.
> 
> prompt: KisuMako, a day in the life

6:30am

 

                Makoto fumbles around, trying to find his alarm clock. The dreaded thing is beeping in his ear and he knows that if he doesn’t turn it off in the next couple seconds it’ll increase in speed and volume. Although he’s a morning person, it’s never pleasant to be jolted awake from a nice dream involving cake.

                “Mmmmaako. Turn it ooooooff,” a voice whines against his shoulder and finally Makoto hits the button, quieting the beeping. The man beside him buries deeper into the blankets, face pressed into Makoto’s shoulder, as the room falls quiet again.

                “I need to get up,” Makoto says, nudging his boyfriend.

                Kisumi groans and latches onto his middle, hooking a leg across Makoto’s. “No.”

                “Kisu,” the brunet says. “I need to get up… It’s a school day.”

                “Fine,” the pink haired man replies grumpily. “I don’t love you either.” And with that he rolls over onto his other side, giving his boyfriend the equivalent to the cold shoulder, in a warm comfortable bed.

                Makoto smiles and sits up, stretching his shoulders and arms out. He presses a light kiss on the top of Kisumi’s head before getting up, just catching the ‘hmph’ that the man let out at the touch.

                The shower feels wonderful. The hot water beats down against his skin, waking him up and relaxing him all at once.

                It’s another day. A Wednesday. One of Makoto’s favorite days, actually. He helps teach swim lessons on Wednesday nights and he always looks forward to seeing his students. Even though he spends the entire day with children, he isn’t tired of them when he goes to the community center pool. Some people – Haru and Rin for example – have called him crazy in the past, but Haru is Haru and spending time with children for an hour is often too much for him. As for Rin, well, Makoto thinks it’s because Rin can be just a little too intense.

                The bathroom door opens and Makoto listens absently while washing his hair as Kisumi relieves his bladder. A moment later the glass door slides open just enough for the man to slip in, then closes once more.

                It’s tight with the two of them, neither a normal height for Japanese men and both broad from sports. But that doesn’t matter, since Kisumi simply wraps his arms around Makoto’s waist and lets his head rest on his shoulder.

                “You need to wake up too,” Makoto hums as he washes his hair.

                Kisumi has practice. He should really be leaving before Makoto. But the shower is so nice and hot.

                Makoto finishes washing and pulls free from his boyfriend. Kisumi looks like he’s finally waking up, because although he does pout at the lack of boyfriend contact, he steps forward to be more fully in the stream of water as the brunet maneuvers out of the shower.

                Kisumi grabs his arm as Makoto is stepping out and pulls him back for a quick kiss, which leaves Makoto blushing.

 

7:13am

 

                The door closes with a click and Makoto counts to himself as he carefully packs the things he needs for the day. He smiles to himself as he hears, half a minute later, the sound of footsteps and the door opening again.

                Kisumi always forgot his water and today is no different.

                The pink haired man rushes passed Makoto, his basketball bag swinging dangerously from his shoulder, and skids to a halt in front of the refrigerator. The brunet smiles as he watches him grab his water bottle and runs out again, this time with a hurried ‘bye!’. Kisumi will come back after practice for his university things.

 

8:26

 

                Makoto makes sure he has everything set up on his desk as his students filter in before the bell. They will start with a warmup in English and go onto math later on. Absently, as he watches the kids sit down at their seats, Makoto thinks of his boyfriend and what he was doing at this moment.

 

12:05

 

                The kids are eating lunch now. Makoto keeps an eye on the students who have decided to stay in his room for the lunch period, listening as they trade school lunch for home-made, onigiri for cookies. Just a normal Wednesday. Little Amiko is the popular one today, her mother always packs her sweets on Wednesdays and so what looked to be half of the class was all huddled around her.

                Bartering, and they were only eight years old. It makes him chuckle.

                Makoto jumps in surprise at the soft tap on the window beside his desk and nearly spills his bento box everywhere. Glancing quickly at the kids to make sure they didn’t see their teacher make such a fool of himself, he turns to see his boyfriend, grinning widely, standing outside the classroom.

                The primary teacher should’ve known, but then again, how could he have known? Kisumi always keeps him guessing. He almost always drops by during the lunch period like this, creeping at the window of Makoto’s classroom, but he doesn’t do it at a regular schedule that Makoto could follow.

                Sometimes he only comes once a week, other times he comes by three times. Sometimes it’s a Monday, and sometimes a Saturday. So he’s always surprised when he hears the tap.

                He must have been gazing blankly at the appearance of his boyfriend, because the pink haired basketball player grins a little wider and breathes on the glass. He draws a heart into the condensation and Makoto fumbles, opening the window quickly so that none of the kids saw what Kisumi had just done.

                “Hey,” Kisumi says with a smile, leaning his elbows on the windowsill.

                “You could give me some warning,” Makoto replies quietly as he looks at the young man. He obviously just finished practice because he’s still wearing his jersey and shoes. Makoto guesses he was just too lazy to change before heading over.

                “Aw, but that’s no fun Mako,” he hums. “I like to surprise you. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

                Makoto blushes lightly and glances away.

                “Do you like your lunch?” Kisumi asks, nodding to the bento on Makoto’s desk. As the teacher looks as well, Kisumi drops his arm into the classroom and takes the brunet’s hand. He laces their fingers together gently, letting them hang out of sight behind the desk.

                Makoto smiles and squeezes Kisumi’s fingers. “Of course I do. You made it for me.”

                Kisumi smiles wider and brushes his thumb across Makoto’s hand. “Well, I can’t let you starve. Everyone knows Makoto can’t cook worth a damn.”

                “Kisumi!” Makoto hisses and covers his mouth with his free hand. He glances around; thankfully none of the students heard Kisumi’s language. All sweets have been distributed by now and Amiko is happily sipping on a chocolate milk box – one of the fruits of her trade.

                The pink haired man flicks his tongue out and licks Makoto’s palm. The teacher looks at him, scowling, and slowly pulls his hand away.

                “I’m around kids all the time, do you think a bit of spit would gross me out?” he asks as he wipes his hand off.

                Kisumi shrugs. “It did make you move your hand though!” he hums delighted.

                “Did you only come over to bother me?” Makoto asks, trying his best to sound stern but he fails horribly. Kisumi looks too pretty there in the window, holding his hand gently, his thumb still caressing the top of Makoto’s hand. “Or did you want something?”

                “Actually, yes I needed something,” the basketball player says. “One of my Uni folders got mixed up in your things.” He nods to a pile of school folders and files on the desk, and Makoto sees the edge of a bright pink folder – definitely Kisumi’s.

                Makoto scowls and disentangles his fingers from his boyfriend, rifling through the folders to grab it. “You’re so forgetful!”

                “I know, I know,” he replies.

                The brunet holds it up for Kisumi to take. He grabs it but doesn’t take it, instead pulling it up to hide Makoto’s face and leans forward, stealing a kiss from his unsuspecting boyfriend out of the sights of the students.

                When they break away, Kisumi slips the folder into his bag. “I’ll see you at home, Mako,” he says and with a wave walks away from the window and a very flustered Makoto.

 

16:02

 

                Hayato, Kisumi’s little brother, comes to watch the swim lesson. At age 15, he’s too old for Makoto’s lessons, but still sometimes comes to free swim when the brunet is on duty. He likes to watch Makoto teach little kids, the same age as he was when he first got over his fear of swimming. Because of Makoto.

                “Makoto-nii-san,” he says, crouching near the edge of the pool. “Is brother going to come by?”

                Makoto looks up at the boy. “I don’t believe so,” he replies, looking back at the young girl swimming towards him. He smiles at her encouragingly.

                “Well I’ll ask you then,” Hayato says.

                Makoto inclines his head, showing that he’s listening to the boy, as he grasps the girl’s hands.

                “Mom wants to know if you’re gonna come over for dinner tonight,” he asks, watching as Makoto leads the next child to swim, holding them up gently. Makoto was always proud of the kids he taught, no matter the location. He only partially hears Hayato’s question and it takes him a minute or two to realize the boy was waiting for an answer.

                “Oh. I don’t think so Haya,” Makoto replies. “Your brother has had a busy day today, I’m sure he’ll fall asleep the second he sits down on the couch. You know how he is.” The boy grins. “We don’t want him falling asleep at the dinner table.”

                Hayato nods. “Okay, I’ll tell them this weekend?”

                “That’ll work,” Makoto says with a brilliant smile. He likes Kisumi’s family. And he loves that they’re okay that their first child isn’t in the least bit straight. Well, partially straight, if he wanted to be technical, but not traditional. Kisumi’s mother and brother loved Makoto. They had moved out to Tokyo after Hayato had graduated primary school because they wanted to be with Kisumi. Dinners at the Shigino household were always filled with laughter and love.

                “We’ll be there,” Makoto says to Hayato and the boy smiles excitedly.

 

19:47

 

                Kisumi brings home takeout for dinner and proceeds to fall asleep on the couch only two bites into it. Chuckling, Makoto picks up the boxes and closes them up. He puts them away before coming back to the couch and nudges his boyfriend awake.

                “Hey,” he hums. Kisumi blinks blearily up at him. “Let’s move to the bed…that can’t be comfortable…”

                “Carry me,” the basketball player demands. “Coach made us do suicides, my legs don’t exist anymore.” And he reaches out like a child to his boyfriend.

                Makoto huffs, only half annoyed, and drags the other young man to his feet then into his arms. He’s glad he’s still in shape, because Kisumi is pure muscle and isn’t a feather. But the pink haired man wraps his arms around Makoto’s neck and rests his head on his shoulder and he can’t help but forgive him when he’s that cute.

                “Love you,” Kisumi murmurs as they settle into bed, his head resting on Makoto’s belly. Makoto just smiles and plays with his hair as he continues to read through the homework that was due today in class.

 

                Wednesdays were good days.

 


End file.
